Canadian Snowsuit Travels (aptly named by Jordan) has grown out of our desire to remain connected to those places during our travels that touched us somehow. One of these places was Mcleod Ganj, Northern India - in the foothills of the Himalayas, home of the Dalai Lama. You may remember from our blog, we visited a school for exiled Tibetan children while there. During our time at the Tibetan Children’s Village, we discovered a small need that we, as Canadians, realised we could fill. Supplying the children with warm, waterproof winter and rain gear. Looking ahead, we would like to eventually include other schools also, possibly in Nepal.

So this is the result of that first idea, standing in that cool and damp dormitory at the school, back in October last year. This is a collaborative effort by the three of us and Ben and Jordan will be involved in collecting, packing and shipping clothing as well as spreading the word through their schools, friends and community. Last month, Ben chose to do his Grade 7 speech on this - so the momentum has already begun! They are both very excited and have so far proven to be excellent ambassadors for this project.

If you live in our community here in Ottawa, we hope you will consider taking part. If you live on the other side of the world where snowsuits are unheard of … well, there is still a lot you can do to help!

Hello faithful readers!I have missed you ... and of course I am deeply missing being out in the world, writing about our adventures. The integration back home has been slow but we are finding our way... I have a couple of outlets to continue my blogging - and who knows, perhaps you will see posts from the road again sometime soon! The cold, relentless Canadian winter has only keep my gypsy spirit more alive. But for now, should you feel so inclined, you can see some bi-monthly posts from me on this brand new site called Speak Mom.I have attached the link of my first published post:http://speakmom.com/returning-from-the-world/Hope you will visit me there!Victoria

When beginning a reflection on a journey such as this I could start with what the kids have learnt out here that they would never have learnt in school, or how our world of family has just opened up ... or I could talk about how experiencing 2nd and 3rd world countries can shift our entire perspective on our lives. I could dive into some philosophical ramblings about the meaning of 'home' or talk about what we have all discovered about ourselves and each other while on the road. There are many ways in which I could attempt to capture it all. I have been asked many times on this journey questions like "what made you want to do this? and "how did you plan it all?" or "how have you coped with all the moving about with two kids in tow?!" and my personal favourite ... "is everything ok in your marriage?" As I have spoken about previously, this is a trip I always knew I would take someday - in some form or another. I knew this before, during and after I birthed both my boys. I believed that showing my children the world at a pivotal age would shape them. They would have an understanding of our global culture and be bigger than the bubble we often create to protect them. My hope was that by seeing poverty and suffering they would understand gratitude and charity. That by connecting them to their family tree abroad they would understand their roots and by doing so this would expand their horizons and their sense of place in the world. Big aspirations these, perhaps with a twist of idealism. But as soon as I made the decision to go forward with this dream, the world opened up. I feel I didn't so much as plan it myself ... as it planned me. Everything (or most things) just fell into place.

Of course it is too early to really understand the full impact, but writing this now, enroute to Vancouver, looking 33,000 feet below at a glimmering, deep blue Pacific Ocean, Fiji just in sight ... I can say that my hopes were met. We have had an incredible journey and I now love to listen as the boys begin to tell their stories. Ben will surprise me with what he has processed and retained. He will describe intricate details and talk of meaningful encounters. Jordan will play "remember when ...?" often and share with me all the things he has loved ... and not loved. Their blog posts do not these memories justice. In fact it was difficult to get them to write anything. And they may close up when they return, especially after realising the reality that their peers may ask only one or two brief questions about their trip. I know this will be hard on them at first and I have tried to prepare them. Their whole world has changed, yet they will return to the same routine they left 5 months ago. But regardless of how they may appear, I know .. they know, the significance of what we have experienced together. Even if it only shows up in brief moments or even possibly, not until they are grown. Another question I have been asked recently is "is there anything you would have done differently?" Well, yes. Lots. I would have made more time for volunteer work and perhaps not moved around so much. I would have established a far better and more organised way to homeschool the boys. I would have re-leant how to add and multiply fractions properly and just let it go when we all got too frustrated with it! I would have been more patient at airports and in the soaring heat. I would have not brought Indian clothes at the first place we saw. I would have locked our bags when we left our rooms. I would have taken more video and less pictures. I would have not kidded myself into thinking one can stay at a yoga ashram with two preteen boys and immerse oneself into a meaningful study of yoga. I would have brought Indian tapestries and hand woven rugs. I would have hiked more in Nepal. I would have stayed longer in some places and had less time in others. I would have insisted my husband meet me in the Nepalese Himalayas for our 15th wedding anniversary.... This list is exhaustive, but also exhausTING... so I will stop here. These are but small things and in the scope of it all ... I think everything flowed beautifully.

I return home of course with mixed feelings. We have been away so long. I swing between feelings of joy, sadness, gratitude, longing and triump. But for the most part I return stronger, spiritually and emotionally nourished. I will not say that every day was easy ... it was not. I have worried about the kids schooling and have been challenged by my health. I have wondered how I will ever get back into a regular routine (still pondering this one!). I have been exhausted by all the sad goodbyes and my vision of a 'Hippy-Van' lifestyle have taken root in my subconscious mind, niggling me in my dreams. And I am tired. Exhausted actually. But it has been SO worth it and I have absolutely no regrets. The precious time I have had with my boys and the bond we have forged has been worth the journey alone. They still like hanging out with their Mum, yet I know this time is fleeting. I am saddened a little, ending this journey with them. It has been the 3 of us for so long, depending on each other, annoying each other and often having no one else but each other. When we return home, I will loose them a little, but rightfully so - to their Dad, to their friends, to their lives. I will miss them and this time we have had together, still as children. But I look forward to watching them slowly grow into men. I am unashamedly proud of them, of the character and strength they have shown, and I love them deeply. (Tissue break)

Ok ... so like any good ending, I wish to add some "acknowledgements". For without these this journey would not be complete. I will endeavour to keep it short and free of too much sentimentality, but I give no promises. 1. First and foremost of course ... without the uncompromised, loving and incredibly strong support of my husband, this journey would not have been possible. Not only did he willingly release his children into the care if their crazy mother, bent on a mission to venture into some of the poorest and potentially dangerous areas of the world, he was the rock of sanity and grounding while we were there. Skype has made our absence easier on us all, but for me his unconditional support came through his presence and his words. I wont say that Paul has pined for us ... those that know him well know that he has enjoyed this time alone. (I am not sure though, when he would have found the time to miss us anyway, what with his trip to Portugal with his Dad, his jaunts at the cottage and all the renovations he has done while we have been gone! He has worked tirelessly. The boys return home to bedrooms of their own and I am to be treated to a newly refurbished kitchen! First world bliss. I must have done something right in a past carnation to deserve this man, this life. I am so grateful.) And I believe that every marriage needs a hiatus, even good ones, and I love the old saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder". It is true. I am not too shy to broadcast to the world how much I love this beautiful man. 2. To all our family and friends who embraced us so warmly and went out of their way to welcome the boys into the clan. My gratitude to each one if you is unending. We could not have wished for a better homecoming. 3. To YOU dear readers! It has been one of the highlights of this journey to share my thoughts, our experiences with you in words and pictures. I will miss this terribly but I know that I will continue to write in some form or another (is it too much to ask at this juncture for a travel publication to send me out on assignment?!) Thank you for your generous words and kind comments. Thank you for taking the time to read and for sending me your thoughts, your own experiences and sharing with me personal accounts from your own lives. It has been humbling and incredibly rewarding for me to know how you have been touched by our journey. My greatest wish through all off these writings has been to inspire, to nuture dormant dreams and to convince you that anything is possible! Travel really is the only thing you spend money on that makes you richer. My deepest gratitude, love and blessings to you all. 4. Lastly, I acknowledge the power of the universe, call it flow, spirit, the divine, God, whatever your word ... it is the energy that empowers us when we are on the right path... Our Own Path. Without being too cliche here ... there is immense power in dreams. So many of us have dreams we may not ever realise. But if you have one ... one that is burning in you, one that keeps you up nights, know that you CAN bring it to fruition. And when you do, your world will open up, a clear path will appear ... and you will be on your way. Trust, have courage and leave no place in your life for fear.Carpe Diemxx

Growing up in such an incredibly beautiful place has certainly spoilt me. But it is funny how when you are young, you just do not appreciate things as you do when you are older. I know this is a cliche, but is it so clear to me now... I realise it may seem confusing, it often is to me also - as I have referred to many "homes" this journey ... I have indeed had many places to call home in my life. This I feel fortunate about (although it does not fare well for my gypsy spirit!)

When we moved to the Gold Coast from New Zealand in 1981, I was on the brink of puberty, had an impatient nature and a strong will. (Not much has changed). It was difficult to say goodbye to my life, my friends, the town of my birth, but still, it not seem like a particularly difficult transition, or at least I do not remember it being so. The Gold Coast at that time had only a population of under 75,000. It was a tourist hotspot back then too, but is was mainly a place for families and surfies. It was a beach town really, that boasted THE best beaches in the world. Burgers, fish and chip shops, bakeries and souvenir shops selling towels and trinkets. A few highrises and holiday apartements dotted the edge of the white sandy beaches which cling to about 60 kms of coastline.

It has changed since then of course. Today, modern, shiny, tall, funky looking skyscrapers have completly altered the skyline and so now it seems foreign to me. The population has swelled to over half a million residents. (This triples in the holiday season.) There has been an amazing amount of expansion and growth here but there are also many things that have remained the same. Like an iconic eating and meeting institution right in the heart of Surfers Paradise - a 24 hour cafe, 50 metres from the ocean that I worked at during my university years. Renovated yes, but still there. And my high school - unchanged, except for the uniforms (I cannot believe that we wore school uniform until Grade 12!) Jordan and I visited the same hangout spot behind the cafeteria my friends and I "owned" in grade 11 and 12. I showed the boys all the different places in which we lived and played and I shared a few secrets from my teenage years which also enlightened my unsuspecting mother! My University has undergone massive expansion too, but I managed to locate the same lecture halls that were my home of knowledge for 4 years.

It was good to be back and I warmed to the Gold Coast this visit - whereas in the past it has left me underwhelmed and I have had no time for the fickleness of the place. It is transient after all and there is a therfore a certain demographic that is attracted to it. The glitz and glamour of the Gold Coast is undeniable. The Miami, Rio or Monte Carlo of Australia - it is a trendy but relaxed place to live and an ultra desirable place to holiday. Miles of white sandy beaches, water as clean as you will ever see and waves that surfers dream of. Theme parks, wildlife sanctuaries and every water sport imaginable. World class restaurants, a cacophony of million dollar boats and yachts, parks and peaceful reserves, hillsides, hinterlands and estuaries ... and lots of amazing sushi. Lots - thanks to a flourishing Japanese culture here.

This us where I spent (or misspent) my youth. We never lived more than a 10 walk minute away from the beach and my days were spent with my friends close to her shores. It was safe, clean, and by todays standards, realitively wholesome. My independent spirit was fueled from an early age and I started working when I was 14. We never lived in suburbs, rather Mum chose apartments in tall highrises with glorious, sweeping views. Looking back now, it was quite surreal. Like living permanently in a hotel. We moved alot in those days, as units changed owners frequently and many would decide that they could profit more from a holiday letting than a permanent rental. Such is the nature of the place. I must have lived in close to 8 places in 10 years. Consequently no real sense of community developed, but I had a steady group of friends who I am still in touch with. It was a fun place to grow up, but by the time I was in my early 20's, I began yearning for something more real, a place with more heart and less show and so I moved on.

This trip we rented an incredible unit right on the beach with 180 degree ocean views that went for miles. It was breathtaking and I could have stayed forever. The sun rose over the sea at 4:40 am each morning and so the dawn light became my alarm. I was up to witness this treat each new day. I felt profoundly happy as sunlight flooded the room and the sound of the loud ocean dominated our space. Even the kids were up early, watching as beach life began ...

My sister came for a few days with Lake and we chose to visit Seaworld, the theme park of my youth. It sits right between the ocean and the broadwater. When I was 13 and 14, we used to water ski right beside Seaworld. Towards the back of the park there was just bushland and only a waist high fence. Too tempting for teenagers like myself, we would often jump the fence and ride the roller coaster for an hour, then jump back over the fence for a picnic lunch and an afternoon of skiing with family and friends This same roller coaster I managed to get my brave Jordan onto this visit, screaming profanities much too inappropriate from a 9 year old's mouth! He did not die, as he had predicted as we made our way up the tall structure, and his guts stayed in tack, and were not "sprayed all over Seaworld for everyone to see". He did it not for the thrill I learned, but just purely to be braver than his brother (who I have noticed has not chosen to add the word "scared" to his vocabulary when teasing his younger brother!)

We got up close to dolphins, sharks, starfish, seals, pelicans, stingrays, penquins and more. So amazing ... the dolphins alone were worth the price of admission as we had the opportunity to really interact with them. Stare into the eyes of a dolphin and it is clear that our human intelligence is virtually matched. I am not really one for Zoos or any enclosure for animals, but the animals here seem well looked after and provide wonderful education for all the children that visit.

We caught up with our friends from Nepal, Melinda and her great kids. Our visit here timed to spend a day with them on the beach. Wonderful to re-connnect with such special friends.

We took the boys to fun water playgrounds and Ben challenged himself on an amazing climbing structure.

We caught up with old friends and swam in beautiful hotel pools (another activity from my teenage years!)

Probably the highlight of our time here though, was our visit to the Wildlife Sanctuary. An Australian institution, the Sanctuary is home to one of the largest collections of Australian native wildlife in the world, on display in natural bushland and rainforest settings.

The kids LOVED it here. Away from some of the contrived attractions of the Gold Coast, this is an oasis. And we could not possibly have left Australia without getting close to some of its unique creatures! Benjamin got to cuddle a koala and we were all thrilled to be able to get so close.

Koalas aren't bears as many people are led to believe. They aren't even related to bears. The koala is related to the kangaroo and the wombat. The koala is a marsupial mammal and lives 13 - 18 years. Placid, sleepy creatures, they are a treat to be close to!

There are only 2,000 to 8,000 koalas in the wild. Although not officially classified as endangered, the population of Australian koalas has dropped by 90% in less than a decade. This is due to the destruction of the koala's natural habitat, a narrow crescent on the eastern coast of Australia. Some developers call it "progress".

The kids got to experience snakes and lizards of all sizes and shapes. They also got to witness and learn about the life and feeding habits of one of Australia's more infamous creatures - the salt water crocodile. Pretty fascinating ...

But probably the favourite was the Kangaroos and Wallabies. The boys were so happy to get so close to them. They hung out with them, feed them and played with them. There are plenty of wild kangaroos on golf courses and in natural areas all over the place ... but you cannot get that close. And be wary when you do, as they have a habit of scratching quite viciously if they are carrying joeys in their pouches.

A Kangaroo is a marsupial mammal. It is a macropod which means "big foot". There are over 40 different types (species) of Kangaroo. The smaller ones are usually called Wallabies. The largest is the Red Kangaroo. It stands taller than a man and can weigh 85 kg's. It is the largest marsupial in the world.

The aboriginal show gave the kids a peak into this fascinating culture. The word "aboriginal" means "the first" or "earliest known". Australia may well be the home of the worlds first people. Stone tools discovered in 1971 show that humans lived in Australia at least twelve thousand years before they appeared in Europe.So far 3 early sites have been discovered in Australia, one being dated about forty-seven thousand years old! To put this in perspective, so that we can appreciate the time scales, since the first fleet of British convicts arrived in Australia in 1788, there have only been 8 generations of settlers. On the other hand, there have been in excess of 18,500 generations of aboriginals! Deep respect needs to be given here.

The Lorikeet feeding is what made the sanctuary famous. It began in 1967. Anyone can still experience the noisy and colourful flocks of wild lorikeets every day as they come in to feed. No admission to the park is necessary for this.

The Lorikeets that feed at the sanctuary are completely wild. Numbers vary from day to day, depending on seasonal flowering of local food trees and the presence of predatory birds in the area. It's an incredible experience and I have this same picture (below) from my childhood!Jordan stood for quite some time, arms up, patiently waiting. He was rewarded in the end, albeit with tired arms!

We had an incredible, fun, educational and busy week! Unforgettable memories were created. The boys pieced together some more of my past and made friends with some native animals.

It is countdown time now for us, with only 5 days remaining. However with the photos of more snow in Ottawa that Paul just sent me - well, we may just delay our return until the Spring.

Merry Christmas to you all. May you count all your blessings as this wonderful year comes to a close. And may you plan wonderful new adventures in 2014. Go places! xxx

The boys were in the water the day after the shark attack. The beach was dead quiet that day, and I of course questioned my judgement for letting them go in. They had not yet learnt of the event and I was not quick to inform them. I sat with my eyes peeled to the water, not taking my eyes off them, a feeling of apprehension and quiet uneasiness pervading me.

We had only been in Australia a little over 2 weeks and they were so loving the ocean. And besides, the odds of getting attacked by a shark are alot lower than losing your life on the roads, and about the same as being attacked by a bear while hiking in Canada. The boys stay pretty close to the shore and are just a little too young and inexperienced to ride the waves "out the back" (a surf term used to describe the big swells that serious riders patiently wait for, legs dangling, way out past the breakers). These were the waves, only 150 metres off shore, that 19 year old Zac Young was riding on his body board the day the shark took both his legs. A few weeks ago now, but his memory still so fresh in the minds of his brave and couragous mates, boarding with him, who fought off the killer shark and hauled Zac back into shore. He was still conscious when he landed on the sand. He told his friends, 15, 14 and 17, how much he loved them, then took his last breath. Cardiac arrest in the end. To much blood lost, the shock of his ordeal proved fatal.

The surf community from where the incident happened, about 2 hours away from us, right up to the beach across from Mums here in Yamba, was in mourning, in shock. Very few riders took to the back waves for a few days, until after Zacs memorial. The surfing community in which he was a part, sat in a huge circle, on their boards in the ocean - right at the place of the attack. It was very moving. All these surfers know of the danger and possibility of a shark under their boards when they take to the swells each day. It is their territory after all and so it is the risk they take. But even though it seems that Australia has alot of shark stories, it is quite rare for this to happen and so makes the sport no more dangerous than most others. Blessings and strength to the Young family and the brave survivors of this ordeal.

The boys have so loved body boarding since we arrived at Mums and have been in the water almost every day, sometimes twice, three times - for hours at a time. (Hearing of the shark attack on the news a few days later did not deter them, although it does make them more wide eyed when they hit the waves.) Their bodies are tanned dark bronze and they are learning about tides, swells, rips and which waves will provide the best ride. Its surf school 101! The days are clear, the water warm and the beaches usually pristine. We walk across the road in bare feet and our days are navigated by the best time to be on the beach. Often several times in one day ... and often at dusk as we take a picnic dinner down and enjoy the sunset. Its a tough life ....

Mum lives in Northen New South Wales, on the coast in a small beach town called Yamba. It boasts some of the best beaches in the area and during the holidays, the population swells. The village is an intersection, with the best in coffee, ice cream and beach wear. Mums unit a short walk from the village, right across from the beach and we go to sleep to the sound of the sea. Its a beautiful spot and Mum has amazing talent at bringing a place to life with gardens, colour and art. It is good to be here, in Mums embrace and she warmly fusses over us, cooking the best meals and making sure we see the best sights. The kids love their Nana and each of them spend quality time with her. We take walks to remote beaches, watch movies on rainy days (yes, it does rain on occasions!) and the boys fashion sculptures out of pumice they collect from the beach. It will be another tearful farewell, but it will not be long until we see Mum again as she has made the decision to move to Canada! The only thing she cannot bring however is this beautiful ocean. I wonder how much she will miss it? Personally, I have never stopped missing the ocean since I left it almost 20 years ago. I pine for it. I will drive hours, days to be near it. Perhaps it is because I grew up so close to it? I just know that the ocean is cleansing and profoundly healing - physically, emotionally and spiritually.

"We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch – we are going back from whence we came…” – John F. Kennedy

The sun rises here at 5:40am in the morning. And there is nothing more moving, more serene than a sunrise over the ocean, so I try to make the trip across the road for it most mornings. Each day displays a different pattern, different light, different energy. Such is the rhythm of our bodies too. This is natures wondrous light show and there is something powerfully spiritual about it.

We see dolphins on occasion in the early hours too, dancing gracefully through the waves. This is a magical, thrilling sight! But just today as Ben and I were swimming in the ocean, we saw a pod of them coming towards us! We swam out as quick as we could and much to our delight we watched as they surfed the waves and played around a lone surfer - all this just 20 metres away. I willed them to come nearer. Of course I did not have my camera, so the below picture is not mine, but this is exactly what we saw! Incredible!

Australia was my home from the age of 11 until I was 26. 85% of the Australian population live less than 100 km from the ocean. Densely populated on the fringes, mainly the east coast, Aussies like their beaches. It is part of the culture here, the sun and the surf, and I have missed this deeply since I moved. It has been over a decade since I was last here. Ben was "made" here and he was only a couple of months shy from being born an Aussie. I often wonder how different our life would be had we had made the decision to stay ... Ben would for sure be riding gnarly waves "out the back" on a custom surfboard by now. But then, he may not know the fun of a snow day! Sigh. I have the perfect solution though for having homes on opposite sides of the planet. I know of people who have made it a reality. 6 months in each country. Or in my case - 4 months in 3 countries! I'll be working on logistics of this one and will keep you all posted ...

We flew into Australia via Sydney and the kids were so excited to meet the last branch of our family tree. One more sister, one more Aunt ... and more cousins! My sister met us at the airport for a tearful and much anticipated reunion. Too much time to catch up on in just one week. 5 whole children, almost grown have been born, raised and have developed independence - since we have seen each other. So much lost time to make up for ...

Katrina and the girls live in Kiama, about one hour south of Sydney. Another beautiful beachside town, the coast hugging rugged, rocky shores and bays. We settled into a cabin by the sea for a few days and watched as our children got to know each other - and we them. They were inseparable. Different genders aside, my sisters 3 gorgeous girls, my nieces, 21, 11 and 6 and Ben and Jordan, bonded instantly. They frittered between the beach, the rocky shore, the playground, the pool and their Ipods. Katrina and I seemed to spend most of our time feeding them, but in the spaces in between we talked, laughed, looked at pictures and reminisced - sisters once again. Thank you dear sister for your warm welcome and our wonderful days in the cabin by the sea. It was an amazing intro to Oz for the boys!

Bless beautiful 6 year old Lake - her own yoga mat ready, she was determined to learn yoga from her Aunty Vic. What a treat for me ... And what a setting!

No visit to Australia of course, is complete without seeing the beautiful city of Sydney. Set on of the most beautiful harbours in the world, I have always loved my visits here. Sydney is a dynamic city, full of character and life. We wandered the beautiful Botanical Gardens to take advantage of the best views of the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. So iconic these sights, the boys were excited to know they were finally in OZ!

It has been an incredible few weeks. But I feel a touch wistful as we are now heading into the home stretch - to what looks like a very early, cold, snowy and relentless winter in Ottawa. How to make the transition from the warm beaches to minus 20 knee deep in snow?! Oh my, send strength....

But until then, we prepare for a "blue" Christmas here (sky and surf) and look forward to our picnic on the beach Christmas day. No hot turkeys, just salads and perhaps a good ol' Aussie Bacon and Egg Pie and some chilled champagne. Feels strange to see shops painting pictures of Santa in the snow on their windows, as the song "White Christmas" plays inside ... then seeing bronzed bodies with surfboards under their arms walk by! But hey ... we'll take it!

Next Post: The fun, excitement and wildlife of the Australia's Playground - the beautiful Gold Coast!

My first memories of Queenstown begin when I was just less than 5 years old. For the past 40 years this town in the Southern Alps of New Zealand has stayed with me, even when years, or decades has separated us. It is difficult to explain the significance, without gushing with sentimentality. I have given myself some time after leaving to write this, and so now I will endeavour to try ...

Set in a peaceful and sunny garden cemetery, nestled into the hillside towards the back of town, away from throngs of international visitors, lies the remains of my Dad. His spirit long departed of course... He was buried here in 1986. I was 16, and as one of his pallbearers, helped lower him into the ground. We were all with him, my sisters and brother, in his beautiful home overlooking the lake and mountains, when he died peacefully in his sleep after battling cancer at the way too young age of just 51. He was a good man – hard working, with entrepreneurial spirit, a dusty laugh and a love for John Denver music. My memories of him are scattered and mostly come from a child’s perspective. I never knew him as an adult. From the age of six, I only saw him once, sometimes twice a year, as I lived permanently with my Mum and stepfather. Then we moved from Gisborne, New Zealand to Australia when I was 11 years old, yet I still made frequent trips back to NZ to see him. I cherished all my visits to him, and to Queenstown. I spoke of this in a previous post ... about how he would be waiting outside on the tarmac (those days before all the security) with open arms to greet me. He was the centre of my universe back then .... There is something so magical about this place for me because of that. I have some profound memories here.

I will not go into the details of our family tree – this is not the place and it is much too complicated! But for many years I have searched for my part within it. It confused me as a child and even as a young adult. Where was my home? And then after moving to Canada, this sense of wondering where I belonged confounded.

With my Dads passing, my visits to Queenstown became more infrequent, yet my heart remained there. It always has. Part of the reason for this trip this year, was to bring my boys here, to meet their Uncle and Aunts and many cousins, who still live in Queenstown and have built beautiful lives there. These are my Dads kids, myself included – we are all connected by this one man. My boys have heard me talk of my Dad over the years and I have shown them the few fading photos I have left of him. But there is still so much about him, about his life that alludes me. This visit allowed me to bring him to life for them ... and me, and to try know more about him. To understand what he had built and where on our family tree they belonged. It was an emotional ride for me, and for them. It was full of sentiment and I often shed tears, remembering him, missing him, yet also feeling his guiding light and happy spirit shine over us. We had an incredible visit and the kids were embraced so warmly by him ... and their new family.

To digress ... with risk of sounding like the NZ Minister of Tourism, Lonely Planet selected New Zealand’s Southern Lakes region as one of the world’s Top 10 Regions to visit. Trip Advisor voted Queenstown “No. 1 Outdoor and Adventure Destination in the World” in the annual Travellers Choice Awards, as well as ranking it one of the “Top 25 Destinations in the World”. Queenstown is home to numerous world “firsts” in adventure terms with the first commercial jet boating operation and the world’s first commercial bungy jump. Pretty impressive and a long way from the small alpine village I remember as a child, although it has for decades attracted tourists, for its sheer beauty alone – not to mention it’s world class ski fields, hiking and lake lazing. Quite simply, it IS one of the most beautiful places in the world. Without doubt. We spent a wonderful time staying with my beautiful sister and her family. Andi and Beau live in an amazing house at the base of the Remarkables – a mountain range that reaches 6373 feet into the sky and named allegedly because they are one of only two mountain ranges in the world which run directly north to south. An alternate explanation for the name given by locals is that early Queenstown settlers, upon seeing the mountain range during sunset one evening, named them the Remarkables to describe the sight. These are mountain ranges that the Dalai Lama visited recently and “remarked” on how much spirit they held. I certainly felt that. We slept under her watch.

We spent days enjoying the awe-inspiring natural sights and visiting family. Never before have I been struck by the majesty of this place. Either my lenses are cleaner as I have aged, or I just missed so much before - I am not sure. Jaw dropping natural, powerful beauty everywhere.

I met nieces and nephews for the first time and the boys suddenly had whole new family of cousins, from a gorgeous toddler to grown adults. Although our time with them was brief, the boy’s family tree just grew whole new, vibrant branches. I loved having and being a sister. Often times, even when years separate, some things never change in families. The bond of blood remains strong and I was able to see so much of me in all of them. The boys new aunts and their one uncle opened their hearts to them and they immediately became family. This meant alot to Ben especially, who is quite sentimental and mature about such things and regards “family time” as so very important. We cherished time with all of them.

My sister Andi brought fireworks for the kids to light themselves on Guy Fawkes night (an old English event celebrated each year on the evening of November 5th with bonfires, fireworks and family gatherings). Great fun – eagerly lead by an overly excited “Pyro” Ben! And we spent time catching up over the best Pinot Noir on the planet...

We gathered many wonderful memories as we remained in the sparkling cradle of Queenstowns hills, mountains and lakes. The boys got to carve their very own Jade necklace in the Opal and Jade business my Dad once owned and directed, now run by my incredibly talented brother (a carver/sculptor) and his equally talented son. For thousands of years humans have used jade (Pounamu – the Maori world for NZ jade) for tools, weapons, adornment, currency and believed in its healing properties. In fact it is so revered in Chinese culture its physical properties have been compared to the virtues of life itself. It is also said to be the toughest of all natural materials. The pieces that are created here are unbelievable and world class, from intricate Maori style pendants to massive 200 pound life size sculptures. My brother has been an artist since he was a boy and learnt his love of Jade from our Dad. These two carvings pictured here are his. Amazing...

In the upstairs workshop, my brother and my nephew showed the boys how Jade is cut, carved and polished. The boys got to use the diamond cutters and fashioned their very own pendant. It was a great experience for them - and Jordan especially, being a lover of all rocks, really took to this. (He has since been found with kitchen tools and soft stone, carving a whole range of beautiful shapes. I smell a love of geology?) They both now wear their creations with pride and it will connect them with NZ in the months to come.

We spent a day on the remote edges of pristine Lake Wakitipu eagerly fishing for Salmon. My brother took the kids under his competent wing, put them behind the wheel of his fishing boat and introduced them to the wonderful world of trawling for salmon. We could have been in another universe – or at least in a quiet scene of Lord of the Rings – there was no one else on the lake, no one to be seen for miles... for hours. The day was crystal. Diamond in fact. Not a cloud, not a breath. Just water that could have been glass and mountain reflections that could have earned the time of great painters. Snow capped mountains in the distance, turquoise water, crisp air ... and salmon, looking for a bite. My brother of course knew the hots spots and the kids caught 7 salmon that day! They watched as the fish were expertly filleted, kissed on the lips and let go. Their luck was of course due to the fact that they used my Dads old fishing rod – to my delight, one my brother had held onto and used all these years. My Dad also loved to fish and Ben especially felt truly connected to him on that day – proudly holding his Grandad’s rod with his first salmon attached! Dad beamed that day.... and would have loved sitting with the whole family that night as we devoured beautifully smoked salmon with dinner and shared lots of wine and plenty of laughs.

Ok ... I do not think I can possibly jam any more pictures into this post, (and this is but a fraction of what I took!) so will end here.

Another goodbye, more tears - not nearly long enough, but we take a heart full of wonderful memories to add to our collection. It was an emotional journey for me and I can't explain my joy at seeing my boys connect with more of their family... and with my Dad. Thank you - all of you for opening your hearts and homes. We love you all. The boys will return when they are grown, I know it They loved it here.

For me - it will definitely not be another 13 years until my feet touch NZ soil again. That I know. xxx

PS: The boys have posted about NZ on their pages too!

Next Post: From mountains to beaches ... the sun and surf of Australia!

NB: Firstly, apologies for the resending of the India Post! Please disregard. (I am having lots of frustrating tech. issues with this App.)

"Aliens used to live here!" Ben often said as we made our way around New Zealand. And I understand where he is coming from. This is Lord of the Rings land and the South Island especially does look like Middle Earth...

We made our way down the east coast of the North Island to the capital city of windy Wellington, cruising on perfect roads, scraping the coast and stopping for the best pies in the land. We enjoyed a wonderful day in the city before seeing Mum off on an early flight at "stupid o'clock" (my sisters description for un-godly early!). We reached the inter-islander car ferry early too and settled in for the four hour North to South Island crossing into the majestic Marlborough Sounds.

We spent three days exploring the incredible West Coast and all its majestic beauty. A wind swept coastline that winds precariously around native bush and a wild ocean. The famous Coast Road is one of the most beautiful in the country and is ranked by Lonely Planet as "one of the best scenic coastal journeys in the world". I would agree. We stopped alot, suddenly swerving into gaps on the side off the road, just so we could take it all in. Not a town in sight for miles and miles, the first day we drove off the beaten track a couple of hours to reach a seal colony tucked away near Cape Foulwind. It was a wonderful morning in our "classroom" of the world!

The heaving swells of the Tasman sea have carved the coastline of the West Coast for millions of years. Nowhere is the effect on the landscape more spectacular and profound than at Punakaiki. The pure power of the sea as it surges into sea caves and regularly blasts sea spray high out of blowholes is incredible. The strange and mysterious Pancake Rocks there kept my camera busy. This large, heavily eroded limestone formation literally looks like thousands of pancakes stacked on top one another. Very cool.

We made our way down the coast to Hokitika - Jade country, where the mountains rise up out of the sea. On this beach, surrounded by bizarre yet delicious, artsy driftwood pieces and gorgeous stones and rocks of all sizes and colours - if you are lucky enough to strike a clear day, snowy mountain peaks can be seen in the distance. So serene, so remote... so breathtaking. After calling into several accomodation options, we finally settled upon a well appointed holiday park right on the beach, that provided quaint and character filled small log cabins. Another home for the night.

BTW, options for a bed for a night while travelling NZ are the following: . Campervans (my choice had we not had family to stay with for most of our trip. I had serious "Campervan Envy" while travelling the roads of NZ. It was quiet season, but still, the roads, lookouts and holiday parks were littered with them. All sizes, all colours of van and all demographics behind the wheel. Next time I visit - this will be my preferred mode of transport/accomodation. With "Freedom Camping" being so accessible - this is THE way to travel New Zealand.) . . Motels - average price is about $160 per night, not including breakfast, wifi or anything aside from a little milk in the fridge for tea, so often way out of our budget. . Hotels - for another time... . Backpackers - lots of great ones! But often for the three of us, not much cheaper (and alot louder!) than the next option .. . Holiday Parks - our preferred choice. Holiday parks in NZ are amazing. Not at all like a "trailer park", NZ holiday parks have an option for all travellers. Part motel, part camp ground, park hotel complex ... most properties are well well equipped with great facilities for kids with pools, hot tubs, playgrounds, laundry and BBQ facilities, sometimes restaurants and bars, free or cheap wifi ... and great rates.

Before we headed inland bound for beautiful Queenstown, we hiked up to the Frans Joseph Glacier. This river of ice plunging down through rainforest to almost sea level is a true wonder of nature. "In the last ice age the glacier extended in a huge ice- sheet to beyond the present coastline. Today echoes of its frozen past are still apparent in the landscape. The terminal face of the glacier is less than 300 metres above sea level. Today this glacial fed river has aggregated as bulldozed debris from the glacier have been washed downstream by rainfall (6 metres a year!) As you drive along the West Coast Road you will see rivers smokey blue water. This glacial silt is evidence of a glacier high in the hills." www.glaciercountry.co.nz.Breathtaking.

I am so loving travelling with my boys still. We are having such a blast. (If I had my way, we would buy the Hippie Van (pictured above) and travel indefinitely). We sing out loud as we cruise in the car and we discuss the meaning of life. Yes they fight in the car and all over the place for that matter.... (I have found myself pulling them out of the car en-route to cool them down on more than one occasion!). Yes, we have days when we are exhausted from all the moving about ... but for the most part, we are loving each and every moment. I am so very proud of them ... and I remain grateful for all the wonderful experiences we are able to fit in to one day!

Love this home of mine! Next Post: Into the mountains .... the majestic Queenstown.

We have covered close to 2000 kms since I first picked up the rental car 2 weeks ago. I have loved almost every minute of driving it too ... the scenery changing like the weather. Windy roads dominate most of the journey, navigating through gorges, river passes, side of mountains and ocean roads. I have done very well, if I say so myself, and have only pulled out and driven down the opposite side of the road just a few times! Because of course this is right hand drive here ... and left side of the road. Usually not a problem when cruising the countryside or down main roads.. It's just the pulling out of intersections that still get me. I do it unconsciously, sailing along down the right hand side of the street (wrong here), until a unsuspecting driver heads right towards me, a look of shock horror suddenly on their face! My first reaction is always, "What the heck are you doing buddy/lady!?" until I hear from somewhere inside the car "Left! Keep left!! You're on the wrong side of the road Mum!!" Gulp. I give a humble wave of sorry to the driver and mutter a silent "Cleary I'm not from around here anymore"... but this often does not suffice. "Bloody tourists!" I can imagine them saying as we slink away in a U-Turn, not wanting to look back.

As we headed into my hometown of Gisborne, (on the left side of the road - the right side) I was struck by my joy at how some things just do not change. Gisborne is a town of about 45,000 people and is not on the major tourist route. It is isolated somewhat and the journey to get through the gorge is long. But it is the first city in the world to see the sun, boasts incredible, pristine beaches and coastline and is home to some of the worlds best wines. This is how Lonely Planet describes her: "Gizzy to her friends, Gisborne's a pretty thing, squeezed between surf beaches and a sea of chardonnay...". Sounds inviting doesn't it? As we drove through the main street I pointed out to the boys the town clock that I remember and parts of the streetscape that have not altered at all. In a world of fast paced change, this is so refreshing. Our family mostly live in the same houses that I have always remembered, and their shining pride in what they have created is well earned. They have beautiful properties - all of them. A testament to staying in one place their whole lives. We loved visiting with all of them, including my twin Uncles and their amazing wives. They all embraced the boys like true family would, not flinching about the fact that this is the first time they met. Warm, kind and incredibly hospitable people. My Mum of course misses all her three brothers terribly and only makes it home every few years. I am so glad that we were able to share this reunion with her and them.

The boys and I stayed with my cousin Mark and his beautiful family on their wonderful, modern farm ... surrounded by rolling hills, vineyards and kiwi fruit. We have always been close, Mark and I, and I wish our time together could have been longer. There is something about sharing a childhood with someone that forever links you too them. Mark educated us on all things about running a kiwi fruit farm. Fascinating ... and the boys were so intrigued as we walked through the crops. Who knew (or maybe those horticulturalists amongst you did know...) that Kiwifruit is pollenated by bees! The boys got to drive the gator and Jordan even got to maneuver a digger. And if you pick up Gold Kiwifruit from NZ (the superior style) in the store next year, you may just be enjoying a fruit from my cousins farm. He is going to have the best crop in the land.

I showed the boys the house I was born in and the schools I went to. We visited the parks I frequented and the ice cream shops I loved. All still there. We played on my favorite beaches and talked about my childhood. I felt very nostalgic and it was endearing how interested the boys were in it all. Memory Lane saw alot of traffic that day.

Mum and I so enjoyed catching up with all the family, sharing stories and laughs. I loved watching the boys interact with them all and form new bonds and relationships. They may still be realing from who is who, but I know they had a fantastic time and I thank all our family ... Mark, Jo, Kelci and Lilly, Coco and Penny the cats. Debbie, John and Jessica, Uncle Ant and Jane, Uncle Tim and Sandy, Uncle Mike and Karen and Katy ... and Bonnie the dog. The boys now can put life to all the faces they have seen in pictures and suddenly they have a whole new dimension added to their lives. People that were at first strangers, in one week, became a whole new family for them. I saw parts of them in uncles and cousins and it is my hope that they will return to my beautiful hometown one day ... knowing that they have many open doors that will always welcome them warmly. It has been a very happy time.

As I had my New Zealand passport stamped at immigration and heard a warm "welcome home", I shed a brief quiet tear. I have shed a few tears this trip - tears of happiness, sadness, sheer joy, exhaustion, frustration ... and tears of gratitude. As we touched down on NZ soil and after being away for 13 years, more tears briefly escaped as I felt the arms of my home country embrace me, us. As we made our way through the Auckland airport, having our muddy hikers and Asian wooden trinkets checked by customs, I felt a huge sense of relief and happiness. It was good to be home.

NZ is like no other place on the planet. I have travelled parts of this country before over the years, but never have I been struck by its incredible raw beauty as I have this past 10 days. Isolated, remote, windswept, proud and diverse. And neat. Everything so in its place, it looks like the country just went through a major spring clean. Hardly a speck of garbage to be seen, nothing out of place. Rolling hills cut down to the bone by a parade of sheep and cows. Fenced paddocks perfectly sectioned. Roads smooth and easy to read. Clear, accurate sign posts everywhere. And the foliage, the trees, the native plants! I do not remember them being so unique, so incredibly beautiful. New Zealand ferns the size of palm trees, flowering cactus growing from sand dunes and dense rainforests that smell earthy and safe. Ocean that clings to the road and rushes to the shore in high winds. Bays that are as calm as an early morning lake. Breathtaking.

The boys and I have taken some time to come down from our time in Asia, India and Nepal, so it has been an odd adjustment, funny enough, to be in a developed country. Who knew that drinking water from the tap and flushing a regular toilet would seem like such a luxury - and a little indulgent! It took us a few days of good kiwi food to really appreciate our new surroundings. Pies, fish and chips, ice ream and cheese - oh the NZ dairy! I must have put on 5 pounds ... and counting. Comfort food, the food I remember as a kid. Rich in gluten, high in sugar! Still as good - better actually! Mum flew over from Australia to meet us and to spend the first week here exploring the North Island and visiting family. I hired a small car from a local company and with jet lag still connecting me with Nepal ... we set off! Nana in the front and the two boys arguing and bickering like an old married couple in the back as we made our way north of Auckland to the stunning Bay of Islands. Neither Mum or I had been this far up, and I am happy we made the effort. We were blessed with incredible weather and lucked out with a motel overlooking the water.

We spent a amazing day out sailing, searching for dolphins and enjoying the islands. We picniked on a remote beach and hiked to take in the vistas. We all got to steer the yaght and hoist the sails. And without breaking into the Rod Stewart song "I am sailing ..." I have to say here, that there is something very special about it. New Zealand is a sailing country, I`m pretty sure my Uncle has sailed the circumference. And the Kiwis just recently got pushed out of the prestigous Americas Cup title by the USA. They were front runners. Kiwis are great sailors. There are thousands of boats in every city harbour. I personally have not sailed alot, but it is something that I want to do more of. To be propelled by the wind is indescribable. And Ben surprised us by applying some of the sailing basics that he learnt at Sailing Camp a couple of years ago! Truly an amazing day - and we did catch a glimpse of some dolphins in the distance.

We showed the boys glow worm caves that dated back hundreds of thousands of years ago. Walking deep amongst fascinating stalignites and stalamites, we stopped, turned off our lanterns and waited for our eyes to adjust. And like looking into the night sky while camping in the deep woods, we were greeted by thousands of little twinkling lights - the butt of the glow-worm. The brighter the light, the hungrier they are. A great memory for the kids. Who knew that NZ was the home to one of the oldest trees in the world?! A Kauri, estimated to be almost 2000 years old! Amazing...

The Bay of Islands is an amazing place. It has so much character and oozes history and culture. We could have spent a week or more there.

We made our way to Rotarua next, home to loads of Geo-Thermal activity. I remember being so fascinated by this as a kid. Boiling mud pools and thermals baths, geysers and steam. The kids had a Maori history lesson that day and got to visit a real village where the natural hot springs are used everyday for cooking and bathing. We were treated to an incredible cultural show, filled with tradtional song and dance and the boys may now be able to perform the "Haka" (Traditional Maori war dance often used to effectively "psych out" oponents in World Cup Rugby by the New Zealand All Blacks)

The boys learnt lots over these few days. I have learnt things about New Zealand that I never knew. And I have a new travel companion! I get alot of my adventurous spirit from my Mum and I am glad she is with us. I know the boys are enjoying having someone aside from me around all the time. Mum and I have had a wonderful time introducing the boys to all things Kiwi! Next post: Homeward bound to the city of my birth, the first city in the world to see the sun, for a long awaited reunion with family!

I love turbulance when flying. I always have. In fact, I like turbulance in my life I have come to understand. It makes it interesting. But turbulance when flying - well strangely I find comfort in it. While others are white knuckling it, their hearts pumping, I close my eyes and it takes me back to my childhood. I started flying when I was about six and have always loved it. In those early years, I would often fly alone, or "unaccompanied minor" as it was called. I felt very grown up and independent, and the fact that I was in the direct care of the airline from when I said goodbye to my Mum to when my Dads arms embraced me, was not relevant. In my childs mind, I was travelling alone and I loved every minute of it. I remember spending what seemed like hours staring out the window, as we flew over the diverse geography that is New Zealand, my young mind getting lost in the wild adventures of my imagination. I am sure I dreamt of our present day adventures during these times. The journey from Mum to Dad would sometimes take seven hours, three planes and long stopovers in one or two cities. Now I am sure it is much quicker. But I loved these travel days, and would awake before the crack of dawn anticipating it. Jordan awakens on these days with the same excitmement as me as a child. "I love travel days!" he says with a huge smile. I hope his memories of travelling remain as vivid as mine from when I was his age.

I love being in airplanes on long journeys, as it is a place of no time. You are neither here nor there. No mans land. I have difficulty sleeping during these journeys as my mind is often as turbulent as the conditions. It is easy to look back at what you have left and anticipate what lies ahead. And as the distance grows now between us and Asia, I find that the images, memories, and experiences are also growing larger. They are also growing brighter. Technocolour. I wrestle with my desire to sleep from sheer exhaustion and wanting to get my thoughts down on paper. I find myself stringing together words in my head as I wander through different states of consciousness. And after all the adventures we have had these past two months, I am seeing with more clarity, some of the things I may have missed at the time.

Anyway, it's difficult to pinpoint really, and I am still sorting out my feelings for this area of the planet. One needs more than a few months to understand it. To flow with it and not against it. I will most likely be processing and intergrating for some time. I know the boys will. Who knew that Ben would want to live forever in Nepal. I did not see that coming, but now I totally get it. He feels more himself there, no barriers, no competions with peers, no stress to be good at everything. No malls. No "stuff". No subliminal and blatant messages telling you you should be better than what you are. A place to just be be. To be a human "being" - not a human "doing". Or a human "getting". It will be interesting to see if these seeds that have been planted in him will grow, and in what direction. My intuition tells me that he will return one day to work with children.

So as we move towards the last half of our journey, back to my home country of New Zealand, and leave Asia behind, I do so with a heavy heart. I have moments when tears just cannot be held back. This overwhelming feeling of emotion swells in me like the biggest of waves, before it crashes to the shore ... And then the feeling is gone as quickly as it came. Until the next one... I do not know what I cry for or what why I feel so emotional. I just know it is there and I am processing it alongside the kids. As our plane took off from Kathmandu yesterday, we all looked and felt melancholy as we stared out the window, holding hands, and bid our silent farewells to Nepal, to Asia. Tears fell from my eyes and landed on Jordans arm. He turned his head and looked at me with such wisdom and gave me a big tight hug. That hug said everything. Tears flowed freely from Bens face also, and I knew that we had all been forever changed.